Mark and I finally got around to watching Quantum of Solace this weekend. DirecTV had a two-fer special bundling that with Casino Royale for a good price, so we went that route and reminded ourselves what the Bond Reboot was up to and why.
I'm so happy we did.
Having watched these two movies within a few hours of each other, I'm very impressed with the overall storyline and character arc. I don't think either movie stands too well on their own compared to how they work together. I've never seen that happen so effectively in serial movies or duologies or trilogies. And it's a bit of a risk that the creators took in splitting that story up as they did. Granted, it's a bigger risk to have tried to bundle CR and QoS into one 4.25-hour-long film, and I don't think there's much I'd recommend cutting out of either movie to get that number down to something more manageable. But I don't think I'll ever be able to watch either CR or QoS on their own and be satisfied with the experience.
That being said, I think the Bond Reboot is effectively established at the end of QoS and that now the franchise can get on with more standalone stories that should offer more depth than the previously established idiom could allow.
Yay, Bond. You've finally found your way out of the Cold War without resorting to cartoonish scenarios and caricatures.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Monday, May 04, 2009
Tantrums-R-Us
The Monster has been melting down over very tiny things very often lately. Usually the punk does this just at the beginning of half-hour-long car rides in which Momma and Daddy don't have much in the way of recourse for his whines. We do our best with ignoring him and taking away privileges at our destination if possible, but it's really not as effective as taking him physically away from the situation to give him a time out. And it's harder on the parental sanity.
Other than the fact that the kid is 3 and ripe for this sort of behavior (and probably learning all sorts of similar tactics from his pals in daycare), I think Drew's reached an age where he's smart enough to know we can't be consistent 100% of the time, has probably caught us a time or two caving to his demands to get bad behavior to stop, and is now trying to figure out just how often he can make that payout. He's learning it's not often. We're on to the little bugger.
Still, it's been a rough couple of weeks as he tests us and we hold as firm a line as possible. Hopefully we're nearing the end of the worst phase of this childhood pleasure.
Other than the fact that the kid is 3 and ripe for this sort of behavior (and probably learning all sorts of similar tactics from his pals in daycare), I think Drew's reached an age where he's smart enough to know we can't be consistent 100% of the time, has probably caught us a time or two caving to his demands to get bad behavior to stop, and is now trying to figure out just how often he can make that payout. He's learning it's not often. We're on to the little bugger.
Still, it's been a rough couple of weeks as he tests us and we hold as firm a line as possible. Hopefully we're nearing the end of the worst phase of this childhood pleasure.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
On Being Sick During a Hyped Outbreak
I'm recovering from an upper respiratory bug that started like the myriad others I've endured since Drew went back to daycare in September. The only difference is that this one sunk its fangs hard into me after three days and sent me to bed for the next three. The number of times I've heard folks ask me if it's swine flu have not been amusing. I work in a medical clinic, so most of the swine flu lines have been jokes. If I worked in a less-informed environment, I'm sure I'd be very annoyed by now.
If anything, this URI might have morphed into something like bronchitis or a sinus infection. But I definitely don't have swine flu. No vomiting, no diarrhea, and my temperture only broke 100 for about an hour, maybe two. Otherwise, it's been an annoying low-grade in the 99s.
So, please. Just keep washing your hands, pushing fluids, guzzling OJ, and doing all the normal stuff you'd do during the height of cold and flu season. Don't flinch over every cough and sniffle.
If anything, this URI might have morphed into something like bronchitis or a sinus infection. But I definitely don't have swine flu. No vomiting, no diarrhea, and my temperture only broke 100 for about an hour, maybe two. Otherwise, it's been an annoying low-grade in the 99s.
So, please. Just keep washing your hands, pushing fluids, guzzling OJ, and doing all the normal stuff you'd do during the height of cold and flu season. Don't flinch over every cough and sniffle.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
An Afternoon with the Planet
Saw Earth today and loved it. Drew was transfixed through the first third of it then got a little antsy as the pretty pictures didn't enrapture him quite as much as they did Momma and Daddy. He enjoyed the whales the most. Momma teared up for a few of the beautiful shots they put together.
We certainly do live in a pretty special place.
Then my writer brain kicked in and tried to figure out just how in the world someone tried to piece together any sort of narrative to this kind of documentary. They advertised a "join three families" storyline that they kind of stuck to, and there were certainly good vignettes to go with the images captured. But as a storyframe to hang nearly 100 minutes on? Just wasn't up to the task. Given the immense scope of taking a concept such as the Planet Earth series and trying to distill that into a feature film, they certainly did a great job finding any sort of coherent structure. I found myself challenged by the idea of what could make it better and getting lost once again in the wonder of this ball of dirt we call home.
If you've got the $10, I highly recommend catching this in the theater to see the amazing footage they captured and the neat photography tricks they used to show the progression of seasons on a large (yes, even global) scale.
We certainly do live in a pretty special place.
Then my writer brain kicked in and tried to figure out just how in the world someone tried to piece together any sort of narrative to this kind of documentary. They advertised a "join three families" storyline that they kind of stuck to, and there were certainly good vignettes to go with the images captured. But as a storyframe to hang nearly 100 minutes on? Just wasn't up to the task. Given the immense scope of taking a concept such as the Planet Earth series and trying to distill that into a feature film, they certainly did a great job finding any sort of coherent structure. I found myself challenged by the idea of what could make it better and getting lost once again in the wonder of this ball of dirt we call home.
If you've got the $10, I highly recommend catching this in the theater to see the amazing footage they captured and the neat photography tricks they used to show the progression of seasons on a large (yes, even global) scale.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Drew! The Musical
Drew had flirted with singing within the first month or so at daycare. He was shy about it, though, and uncertain of the words and tunes. He favored "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" and gave us a few tentative concerts on the way to or from home each day.
Then Christmas time came with its bounty of catchy carols, and Drew no longer felt any hesitation in the singing department. And how could a child hold anything back when "Jingle Bells" is there for the belting?
Ever since then Daddy and I have enjoyed many a morning or evening serenade. Heck, the Drew Monster has even been known to break out into song in public lately. He still prefers "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" but he's having fun with his ABCs and about five seconds of the theme song for Dora the Explorer. Daddy and I are simply grateful the "Wheels on the Bus" and "Old MacDonald" phases seem to have passed.
Let the grooming for American Idol begin.
Then Christmas time came with its bounty of catchy carols, and Drew no longer felt any hesitation in the singing department. And how could a child hold anything back when "Jingle Bells" is there for the belting?
Ever since then Daddy and I have enjoyed many a morning or evening serenade. Heck, the Drew Monster has even been known to break out into song in public lately. He still prefers "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" but he's having fun with his ABCs and about five seconds of the theme song for Dora the Explorer. Daddy and I are simply grateful the "Wheels on the Bus" and "Old MacDonald" phases seem to have passed.
Let the grooming for American Idol begin.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Emerging from the Work Daze
Since about the middle of February, the day job has been running my life. One of my team members resigned and all of our studies had extremely urgent deadlines for a big conference next month. This past week marked the last of my current load of studies screaming at me with a red-hot deadline. The upside of all of this is that pretty much all of my studies are squeaky clean and caught up in all aspects.
The downside is that, for the past two months, the day job has been all-consuming and kicked me into career mode. Now that the insanity has passed, I'm having to work to remember how I had my life structured and ordered to address the day job, the family, the writing group, and the writing. Figuring out the juggling act for the first three hasn't been too hard, mostly because they have daily necessities that I can't just set aside after too long short-changing them. The writing, however...
To be honest, I've been kicking writing to the curb since December and maybe even November. At first it was because of family issues that needed a good deal of time and attention. Then it morphed into my desire to treat the day job like a career equal to or, at times, even above writing. I didn't make a conscious decision to do so, I just started with little thoughts and gestures here and there and, by the end of January, I had begun considering this job in terms of how to advance my company and myself over the next ten years. Then the recent madness hit and there was no time for thoughts outside of getting through each day, each week with most of my sanity intact and without entirely ignoring my husband and child or the requirements of my position in my writing group.
As the week wrapped up, and I found myself able to pick and choose which of the handful of non-urgent work tasks I could do, I started reminding myself that the day job is not the only career I want, that I have something else in mind for the rest of my life. So I dutifully mapped out what writing projects I wanted to dive back into and what outstanding issues they each had. As I read through a couple of short story drafts I want to shape up and submit and scanned through the novella-to-novel revision I haven't really touched since December, I ran into a new dilemma.
I've forgotten why I love each of these ideas.
Well, not in general. And not in any dangerous way that has me questioning if I really do want to pursue writing as a career. But in the specifics that made it not only fun but worthwhile to put the butt-in-chair, fingers-on-keyboard and face the inner critic's utter disdain for the prose that needs to be fixed. So I've been doing a decent amount of journaling and thinking and listening to story-inspired playlists to recapture the sense of joy I held for each of these projects even in the depths of the oh-so-pleasant bouts of "I SUCK I'LL NEVER PUBLISH OHMIGOD HOW COULD I EVER CONSIDER MYSELF A WRITER THIS IS VILE VILE VILE".
I'm hoping that one more night of a concerted effort to recapture the love will kickstart me into the regular writing schedule I really need to re-establish. I've got a lot of itchiness to be writing these stories, particularly the novella revision, so I'm not worried that there'll be nothing to resurrect. I just need to find the right access point, I think. Revising short stories wasn't it as all that idea netted me was depression over how far I have yet to go before I'm ready to break into publishing. (Silver lining time: I've figured out that about a third of the way into any project, I shift from character-driven stories to plot-driven mad dashes to the finish. And I'm finding that it's remarkably hard to reshift a plot-driven draft into a character-driven finished product. This is the silver lining because it's a problem defined. I can deal with well-defined problems.)
I think part of getting back into the regular swing of writing will also translate into regular blog posts. I know, I've said this many times before. It feels right to say it again, though. We'll see what comes of it.
The downside is that, for the past two months, the day job has been all-consuming and kicked me into career mode. Now that the insanity has passed, I'm having to work to remember how I had my life structured and ordered to address the day job, the family, the writing group, and the writing. Figuring out the juggling act for the first three hasn't been too hard, mostly because they have daily necessities that I can't just set aside after too long short-changing them. The writing, however...
To be honest, I've been kicking writing to the curb since December and maybe even November. At first it was because of family issues that needed a good deal of time and attention. Then it morphed into my desire to treat the day job like a career equal to or, at times, even above writing. I didn't make a conscious decision to do so, I just started with little thoughts and gestures here and there and, by the end of January, I had begun considering this job in terms of how to advance my company and myself over the next ten years. Then the recent madness hit and there was no time for thoughts outside of getting through each day, each week with most of my sanity intact and without entirely ignoring my husband and child or the requirements of my position in my writing group.
As the week wrapped up, and I found myself able to pick and choose which of the handful of non-urgent work tasks I could do, I started reminding myself that the day job is not the only career I want, that I have something else in mind for the rest of my life. So I dutifully mapped out what writing projects I wanted to dive back into and what outstanding issues they each had. As I read through a couple of short story drafts I want to shape up and submit and scanned through the novella-to-novel revision I haven't really touched since December, I ran into a new dilemma.
I've forgotten why I love each of these ideas.
Well, not in general. And not in any dangerous way that has me questioning if I really do want to pursue writing as a career. But in the specifics that made it not only fun but worthwhile to put the butt-in-chair, fingers-on-keyboard and face the inner critic's utter disdain for the prose that needs to be fixed. So I've been doing a decent amount of journaling and thinking and listening to story-inspired playlists to recapture the sense of joy I held for each of these projects even in the depths of the oh-so-pleasant bouts of "I SUCK I'LL NEVER PUBLISH OHMIGOD HOW COULD I EVER CONSIDER MYSELF A WRITER THIS IS VILE VILE VILE".
I'm hoping that one more night of a concerted effort to recapture the love will kickstart me into the regular writing schedule I really need to re-establish. I've got a lot of itchiness to be writing these stories, particularly the novella revision, so I'm not worried that there'll be nothing to resurrect. I just need to find the right access point, I think. Revising short stories wasn't it as all that idea netted me was depression over how far I have yet to go before I'm ready to break into publishing. (Silver lining time: I've figured out that about a third of the way into any project, I shift from character-driven stories to plot-driven mad dashes to the finish. And I'm finding that it's remarkably hard to reshift a plot-driven draft into a character-driven finished product. This is the silver lining because it's a problem defined. I can deal with well-defined problems.)
I think part of getting back into the regular swing of writing will also translate into regular blog posts. I know, I've said this many times before. It feels right to say it again, though. We'll see what comes of it.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Millie
My grandmother, great aunts, great uncles, uncle, and assorted cousins buried my great grandmother today.*
Millie Arel was 97 and is survived by countless children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and one great great grandchild. Her health and outlook had been declining for several years since she had to move out of her own apartment and into hospice care, and she always thought she had been far too long a widow and wondered when God would decide she could go join all those who had already left her. So this ending was peaceful and a welcome release for a remarkable woman.
There's so much more I'd love to say about my great grandmother--memories of trips to Grand Forks, pictures of four and five generations of her family--but I'm actually a little bit numb right now. No matter how expected such a moment is, no matter how much I know it's what she wanted, no matter how peaceful her friends and family are at her passing, I still struggle with the knowledge that Drew will only know this woman from pictures as he met her when he was only six months old. I can't help but be sad for that loss.
Let's hope I get better at posting so as not to develop a trend of updating the blog to report a loved one's death.
Millie Arel was 97 and is survived by countless children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and one great great grandchild. Her health and outlook had been declining for several years since she had to move out of her own apartment and into hospice care, and she always thought she had been far too long a widow and wondered when God would decide she could go join all those who had already left her. So this ending was peaceful and a welcome release for a remarkable woman.
There's so much more I'd love to say about my great grandmother--memories of trips to Grand Forks, pictures of four and five generations of her family--but I'm actually a little bit numb right now. No matter how expected such a moment is, no matter how much I know it's what she wanted, no matter how peaceful her friends and family are at her passing, I still struggle with the knowledge that Drew will only know this woman from pictures as he met her when he was only six months old. I can't help but be sad for that loss.
Let's hope I get better at posting so as not to develop a trend of updating the blog to report a loved one's death.
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